Chapter 43: Chapter 43: He Couldn’t Bear It Anymore
The man’s sinister voice sounded as if it came from Hell.
The next second, the man dragged her back into the alley.
Overcome with terror, every hair on Holly Sinclair’s body stood on end. She instinctively thrashed her hands, scratching at the man.
In an instant, she’d drawn several bloody scratches across the man’s hands and face.
SLAP!
"You bitch! You dare scratch me?!"
Enraged, the man swung his arm and slapped Holly Sinclair across the face.
Holly Sinclair saw stars, her ears ringing from the force of the blow.
She collapsed, and for a long moment, she couldn’t get her bearings.
"Tsk... Not bad at all. Looks like I’m getting lucky tonight."
The man grabbed Holly Sinclair’s chin. In the dim light, his eyes devoured her exquisitely beautiful face, filled with greedy amazement.
’This woman is gorgeous!’
’He’d never seen anyone so beautiful. A goddess, maybe.’
’And her skin... so soft and smooth, it looks like it would bruise with the slightest touch.’
He could barely contain his lust.
"Who are you? What... what do you want?"
Having regained a little strength, Holly Sinclair knocked his hand away. She scooted backward, her voice trembling as she spoke.
"Play nice, and this will be easier for you. Otherwise, don’t blame me for not being gentle."
He didn’t answer, just gave a wicked grin. His eyes gleamed with a predatory light, like a hyena staring down its prey.
Utterly vile and disgusting.
With that, the man lunged at her, unable to wait a moment longer.
"Is it money you want? Just let me go! I’ll give you money!"
Holly Sinclair, a mess of terror and panic, pushed against him with all her might, screaming herself hoarse.
"I want the money, and I want you."
The man sneered, leaning down to kiss her as he tore at her clothes.
"Don’t touch me... AHH!"
Holly Sinclair let out a bloodcurdling scream, thrashing her head back and forth to escape the man’s foul-smelling mouth.
She was so disgusted she felt like she was going to be sick.
RIP—
The man tore her jacket open.
"Get off me! Don’t touch me!"
Holly Sinclair screamed until her voice was raw, fighting for her life.
She kicked and thrashed, trying to shove him off.
But he used the chance to grab her legs.
He forced them apart.
Pinning her beneath him.
"AHH! NO!!"
She was completely pinned. Despair flooded her heart.
The man’s eyes were filled with raw lust. His rough hand slid up her leg, cold and venomous as a snake, sending a chill through her entire body.
Holly Sinclair trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming from her eyes.
Suddenly—
BANG!
Just as the man was about to have his way, the weight on Holly Sinclair was suddenly gone.
The man was sent flying by a single kick.
He slammed hard against the wall.
Before falling to the ground with a heavy THUD.
"Ugh... Pfft..."
The man let out a pained groan, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
The scumbag who’d been ready to assert his dominance just a second before was now completely incapacitated.
Tristan Sterling stood in the narrow, dark alley, his presence like that of a descended god.
His gaze was savage, his handsome face dark and terrifying. An aura of frightening hostility radiated from him.
He strode over and viciously kicked the man in the stomach.
"AAARGH!"
The man let out a piercing shriek, feeling as if his insides had been shattered.
Tristan Sterling hauled the man up by his collar and hammered punch after punch into his face.
Soon, the man’s face was a bloody pulp.
Tristan Sterling released his grip, and the man, now barely breathing, slumped to the ground like a dead dog.
Barely clinging to life.
His gaze shifted downward. Tristan Sterling’s cold, hawk-like eyes fixed on the man’s crotch.
He lifted his foot.
And brought it down. Hard.
Ruined.
"Nnngh..."
The man’s face went white. He no longer had the strength to scream, merely curling into a ball and letting out agonized whimpers.
"Connor Grant."
Tristan Sterling called out coolly. He pulled out a handkerchief and methodically wiped the blood from his hands, his gaze on the blood-spitting man as if he were already dead.
Connor Grant, who had been waiting at the mouth of the alley, immediately stepped forward.
He then dragged the man out of the alley like a sack of dead weight.
What awaited him now was the judgment of the law.
Tristan Sterling tossed the handkerchief aside and walked toward Holly Sinclair, who was huddled in the corner, trembling.
Her clothes were torn, her hair was a mess, and her face was streaked with tears.
A pitiful sight.
Tristan Sterling took off his jacket to drape it over her shoulders.
But she raised a hand to stop him.
Holly Sinclair wiped furiously at the tears on her face, using the wall for support as she shakily got to her feet.
’She didn’t want his hypocritical pity.’
She picked up her bag and shoes and began to stumble barefoot toward the mouth of the alley.
Seeing how she looked ready to collapse at any moment, Tristan Sterling’s brows knitted together.
He strode forward and grabbed her arm.
"Don’t touch me."
But she shook him off.
Holly Sinclair’s voice was hoarse and broken. Her body still trembled with the lingering terror.
Leaning one hand against the wall, she kept walking.
Her bare feet were being cut by the sharp stones on the ground, the pain excruciating.
"Why are you being so stubborn?" Tristan Sterling snapped.
’He saves her, and this is the attitude she gives him?’
’She’s becoming more and more ungrateful!’
Tristan Sterling moved forward and grabbed her again.
"I don’t need you shedding crocodile tears."
Holly Sinclair tried to wrench her arm away, but this time she couldn’t break his grip.
His large hand was like an iron vice, clamped tightly around her wrist.
"Who exactly are you calling a hypocrite?" Tristan Sterling was exasperated.
"Don’t tou—"
She was furious, but before she could finish, he swept her up into his arms. She beat his shoulder with her bag. "Put me down!"
"Wasn’t the lesson from just now enough?"
Tristan Sterling scoffed, holding her as he walked directly toward the mouth of the alley.
Holly Sinclair stopped struggling.
Her heart still pounded with fear.
What had just happened was too terrifying. She never wanted to experience anything like it again.
Once they were in the car, Tristan Sterling gave an order.
"To the hospital."
...
「The Hospital Room.」
After her injuries were treated, Holly Sinclair fell into a deep sleep.
But after such a shock, her sleep was far from peaceful.
In her dreams, she was back in that dark, damp alley, the pervert about to violate her.
Terror, despair, helplessness...
The nightmare continued where reality had left off.
"No... Stay away..."
Holly Sinclair murmured in her sleep, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes and soaking into the pillow.
His thumb gently brushed away the tear at the corner of her eye.
"Don’t be afraid. I’m here."
His voice was a low, magnetic murmur, soft and coaxing.
Tristan Sterling’s voice was a warm ray of light, piercing the darkness of Holly Sinclair’s dream.
The fear began to fade.
Gazing at the now-quiet woman, he reached out to wipe the tear stains from her cheeks.
Perhaps sensing his safety, she nuzzled her face against his palm like an injured kitten.
His heart inexplicably softened.
He lowered his head and couldn’t stop himself from placing a kiss on her damp eyelashes.
"Wouldn’t it be nice if you were always this docile?"
Tristan Sterling sighed softly.
’It felt like it had been a very, very long time since he’d seen this compliant side of her.’
Still dreaming, Holly Sinclair continued to nuzzle against his palm.
As if seeking more comfort.
A tingling sensation spread from his palm, like a feather tickling his heart.
Tristan Sterling’s whole body tensed.
With his other hand, he traced her soft, alluring lips with the pad of his thumb.
The touch started light, then slowly grew firmer, until he was pressing down hard.
"Mmm..."
She whimpered in pain, her brow furrowing.
She opened her mouth and bit down on his finger.
Tristan Sterling couldn’t take it anymore.
He got into the bed and pulled her into his arms.
